


If It Means the Death of Me

by wakeupstiles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Death, Established Relationship, F/F, Heartbreak, Killing, Major character death - Freeform, Mercy Killing, Tragedy, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6036976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakeupstiles/pseuds/wakeupstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Commander wanted justice for her 300+ warriors lost. One life to make up for hundreds. To save the lives of everyone she cared about, Raven was going to give her what she wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It Means the Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> this is an alternate ending to the fic i wrote last year 'Don't Go Where I Can't Follow' ;; you don't have to read that one first ;; the first part of this fic (before the first break) will be the same as the first part of the other fic because the set up is the same (except for the last sentence, i changed that);; everything after that is completely different
> 
> this is still going to break your fucking heart
> 
> link to the other fic if you wanna read it:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/4006630

“Stop.” Raven ordered, not looking up from what she was working on. At this point, she didn’t even know what she was trying to fix; she was doing something to keep her hands and head busy or else she’d start crying, and if she started crying, then she would start screaming, and if she started screaming she was bound to break something. She wasn’t in the mood to clean up broken shards of glass, she doubted she had enough energy in her to break something in the first place, but even still, she had to keep busy.

“I’m not doing anything.” Clarke’s gruff voice retorted from across the room.

“You’re just standing there.” The other woman pointed out, waving her arm for emphasis but still not looking in the blonde’s direction. “Be quiet. I’m trying to work.” She grumbled.

“I haven’t said anything, and it doesn’t exactly look like you’re working.” Clarke grunted, moving farther into the room. Raven closed her eyes and took a deep shaky breath. She knew why Clarke was there, she knew what she was going to say before she even said it, and she didn’t want to hear it. She refused to listen.

“Well maybe if you left then I could get something done.” The dark haired woman turned on her stool, now facing her girlfriend, and tried to keep her face straight. They stared at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity, studying each other, brown eyes matching blue, looking each other all over, as if searching for the answers to the universe. But the universe was vast, as were people, Raven had come to learn, and one would never get all the answers they desired.

After a few moments, Clarke’s shoulders rounded and she let out a long huff of air from her lungs, and said, “I just met with the Commander.”

Raven gave a stiff nod. “I know.” She was pissed off; so pissed off. The night before, Clarke had told Raven that she was going to meet with the Grounder Commander to try to forge peace between the two colonies of people. Raven raised hell, begged her not to go, knew that whatever the Commander wanted in order for peace to be possible it wouldn’t be good. It wouldn’t be fair. But Clarke didn’t listen—she never listened when her mind was set—so she went. Raven awoke to an empty bed that morning and a heavy heart. She’d been in the lab all day, waiting for Clarke to return to Camp Jaha, hoping that Clarke would come back alive and now in a body bag, and now that she had, Raven allowed herself to revel in her anger.

Clarke’s crystal eyes roamed over her girlfriend’s face. She saw contempt, and she also saw the beginnings of heartbreak. She opened her mouth to speak, but Raven beat her to it, “What does she want?” Clarke’s eyes shifted away from her and Raven tried to keep her face neutral.

“She wants justice for her three hundred warriors.” Clarke said lowly.

 _“But what does she want?”_ Raven pushed the question again, already knowing the answer, but wanting Clarke to say it. It was pretty obvious what the Commander wanted, but Raven needed to hear Clarke say it.

Clarke looked up at Raven and sighed, closing her eyes. “The person who blew up the warriors.”

Raven turned back to the table she had been working on and rested her fists on it. She hung her head, thinking. She knew what Clarke would do, but she also knew what she would do. “Okay, so how do we fight this?”

“We can’t.” Clarke responded hopelessly.

With that, Raven snapped her head up, her eyes squinted in a glare, but not necessarily at Clarke, more so at her answer. “Of course we can. We’ve fought them before, we can fight them again.”

“There are hundreds of Grounder warriors, Raven, and there are so few of our soldiers; if we try to fight this time, we’ll all die.”

“Fighting is better than giving up!” Raven shrieked, her nerves shot.

“It’s not giving up!” Clarke snapped. Raven stood in front of her, her chest rising and falling deeply, her nostrils flaring, her face scrunched and her mouth a hard line. Her temper was a wrath almost everyone feared, but not Clarke, so, she continued in a leveled tone, “It’s creating a chance for us to work together.”

“How can we all work together when one of us will be _dead?_ ” Raven’s voice cracked. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ‘sacrificed’—it just felt so wrong. The Grounders had attacked them, they had defended themselves, it was war, surely the Commander would have understood that. _It wasn’t rocket science._

“One life to prevent the deaths of the rest of us—and everyone in Mt. Weather—is a sacrifice that has to be made.” Clarke declared, her voice clear and her face sure. But it was her eyes, Raven noticed, that housed all her suffering.

The dark skinned woman turned away again, closed her eyes, bit her lip, and a second later spun back around and said, “Okay, then I’ll do it.”

Clarke’s face dropped and her head buzzed in confusion. She stumbled over her words before she was able to form a coherent word. _“What?”_ Her voice came out in a soft, mangled whisper.

Raven took a deep breath in and out through her nose and nodded curtly. “I—I made the bomb that blew up the Grounders.”

“I pulled the lever that blew up the Grounders.” The pale woman pointed out.

“Clarke, we are not going to argue about who’s going to sacrifice themselves to save the rest of our people. I made the bomb. I did it. So I’ll face the consequences.” Raven nodded with each word, though she wish she wasn’t saying them. She wished there was an alternative solution. But, Clarke was a leader; she was their leader. The Ark people needed her, and if the truce was really going to work, it was only going to work because of Clarke. So Clarke had to live, she had to. Raven on the other hand, she was just a mechanic. _Just a mechanic._ She thought with a little smile and distant eyes.

  
“Raven,” Clarke grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her thoughts.

Raven’s eyes skimmed her girlfriend’s face and she squeezed her hand. “They need you, Clarke.”

“They need you, too.” Clarke countered matter-of-factly.

“You’re their leader.” The brunette said plainly.

“We wouldn’t have survived on the ground without you, and Raven, you’re not going to do this. I won’t let you.” Clarke said with conviction.

“And I’m not going to let you.” Raven retorted just as stubbornly.

Clarke sighed in exasperation. “You said I’m the leader, so this is my responsibility. My problem to fix.”

Raven threw Clarke’s hand out of hers and shot her arms in the air in a blind rage. “But I can’t lose you!” She wailed, her voice splintering off into a pathetic whine. “I—I lost Finn and now that I have you I…Clarke, I can’t lose you.” She admitted, crossing her arms loosely over her chest.

The other girl was silent for a few seconds before she mumbled, “I can’t lose you, either.”

“Then please, let’s fight this.” Raven grabbed Clarke’s hands and held them tightly between her own. She begged with her eyes for Clarke to hear her. “We can find another way.” She was determined that they could. The two of them could find their way out of anything, any situation, and make it out alive.

Clarke was silent for a few minutes, her ears ringing and her head buzzing with the proposal of deception. But she squeezed Raven’s hands back, looked up at her and agreed, “Okay…okay, we’ll find another way.” And then Raven pulled her into a tight hug, the tightest she’d ever given her, as if she might disappear if she let go.

Though she wouldn’t let her.

 

* * *

 

  
It was nearly ten o’clock when Raven was finally able to slide out of bed. Luckily she’d left her brace on, so that saved her around ten minutes and a whole lot of noise. She slipped a shirt over her head and pulled her hair back in its usual pony tail, then turned to look at the bare sleeping woman who’d been next to her. Her blonde hair framed the pillow like a golden halo. Her breaths were slow, deep, and her body was moving up and down rhythmically beneath the thin sheets. Raven reached out to touch her but withdrew her hand before she made contact. She didn’t need Clarke waking up because if she did then she would stop her and she didn’t need to be stopped.

Earlier she'd argued for a way to fight what the Commander wanted. To try to find a different way for them to get peace. But as the day went on and Raven got absorbed in her thoughts, she knew that there truly was no other way. A life for a life. That's what the price was. That was a price that Raven was willing to pay.

So, instead of kissing her goodbye or caressing her cheek, Raven scribbled some words on a torn piece of paper and laid it on their bedside table. Then she went to the door, looked back at her girlfriend, whispered, “May We Meet Again.” And slipped out of the room without making a sound.

She had ten minutes. That’s how long Wells would keep the electricity down on the fence that surrounded their camp. She made her way to the back of the Ark, keeping to the shadows to not draw attention to herself. From the front entrance she could see the light out in the valley from the Grounders’ torches. Briefly she wondered if they would burn her alive.

When she got to the back of the Ark, a large figure was waiting for her in the darkness. As she grew nearer she realized who it was and let a string of cuss words escape her mouth. “What are you doing?” He asked, ignoring her cussing.

She bypassed him, muttered, “Saving all of your asses. Again.” She went to duck under the wire fence but Bellamy grabbed her forearm and pulled her back.

“Raven, _what are you doing?_ ” His usual deep voice was cracking in every direction and as much as it pained her to hear him in such desperation, she tried not to care.

She made no attempts to yank her arm out of his grasp as she turned around to face him, because maybe, briefly, she wanted him to keep her there. Maybe she wanted him to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back into the Ark. Maybe she wanted him to shove her back in her room, lock the door, and never let her out. Maybe she didn’t want to do this. Maybe she wanted to live.

But then again, it didn’t matter what she wanted, not really.

Not when the forty-eight were locked inside Mount Weather, desperately waiting for someone to save them. Not when the people in Camp Jaha were vulnerable against a Grounder attack that would surely happen if the Commander didn’t get her justice.

After a few moments, she said, “I’m doing what I have to.”

“You don’t have to do _this._ ” He hissed darkly.

She turned away from him, towards the fence, and looked out at the Grounder Camp. Her eyes began stinging but she pushed the tears away as she looked back at the man. Tear tracks were already decorating his face and she felt herself crumble from the inside. She gulped down the lump that had begun to form in her throat, said, “Yes, I do.”

He shook his head furiously, reached out to her again but she pulled away. “There has to be another way. We can—we can find another way.” He was begging her to stay and she wanted to, _oh god,_ she wanted to.

“The Commander wants someone to atone for the Grounders she’s lost.” She said softly.

“But it doesn’t have to be _you._ ” He urged.

Raven gave him a sharp look, her heart beginning to speed up. “Then who the hell else is it going to be?” She asked sharply, which caused him to wince back a little. “Sure as hell not Clarke.” She gritted her teeth, dug her nails into her palm. The thought of Clarke dying—it tore her in shreds. “Not—everyone needs Clarke.”

“We need you, too.” Bellamy pointed out.

She gave a tiny shrug. “You’ll be okay.”

“ _Clarke_ needs you.” He pleaded.

Raven looked up at the clear night sky, held in a breath for a few seconds and then let it out slowly. She looked out towards the valley and commanded herself to not fall to her knees and sob. “I have to go, Bellamy, before they storm the camp and take someone innocent.”

 _“You’re innocent.”_ He said aggressively.

She gave a faint smile, a low laugh. “No, I’m not. None of us are.” Then she slipped under the wire and out of Camp Jaha before Bellamy could stop her again. She was able to take one step before his hand grabbed hers to yield her once more. She gave his fingers a squeeze, didn’t turn back to him as she said, “She’s going to hate me. She’s going to hate me and she’s going to break and you have to make sure that she’ll be okay. You and Octavia and Wells, all of you have to make sure— _make sure._ ” She couldn’t get the rest of the words out for fear that she would break down right there and forget her whole plan. She couldn’t; she had to see this out. She had to save everyone. She had to save her friends.

Bellamy didn’t say anything. She assumed he was scared to because of how shattered his voice would be if he tried. She didn’t say anything either; she just let go of his hand and began walking forwards. He tried to hold on as best as he could, but finally his fingers slipped from hers and the fence buzzed back to life.

She began her trek towards the Grounder Camp. Alone, shivering, numb. As the light from the fire grew closer she finally allowed herself to cry.

 

* * *

 

  
Anya and Indra were waiting for her when she entered the camp. They held the ends of their spears towards her heart, ready to attack if she tried anything. She solemnly raised her arms and the two women flanked her, Indra on her left and Anya on her right. They each grabbed an arm and then led her towards the Commander’s quarters.

Grounders spat at her and growled as she passed. She stood her own, though, and kept her head high, her shoulders square, and her gaze straight. The walk to the Commander’s tent was short. Once she entered she knew there was no turning back. Technically there was no turning back once she’d entered their camp, but now, as she stared up at the Commander sitting on her throne, black war pain streaking down her eyes, a dagger resting in her lap, it was truly over for her.

She was young, only a few years older than Raven, and she was fierce. Raven should have hated her then and there, but she couldn’t. This woman was going to kill her and she couldn’t hate her. Because she was just getting justice for her people, the people who Raven killed. She understood. She understood and she hated herself because _she couldn’t fucking hate her._

The Commander stood, looked down at the dark skinned woman, said, “Reivon kom Skaikru, you stand accused of incinerating three hundred of my warriors. What say you?”

Without blinking she answered, her voice thick and rough, “Guilty.”

She nodded, sat back down in her chair. “Your punishment shall be to endure three hundred marks, one for each other the lives lost.” Then she motioned to Anya and Indra, who had not let go of Raven’s arms since entering the tent. “Take the prisoner outside. Bind her to the pole. The ceremony will begin in a few moments.” Their grips tightened around her arms as they turned and practically carried her out.

When she’d pictured living on the ground, she’d never imagined this.

 

* * *

 

 

She awoke to someone shaking her. She sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes and pushing through the exhaustion in her brain. “Clarke, Clarke, come on.” It was Octavia. What was she doing in hers and Raven’s room—and where the hell was Raven?

“Oh, _fuck._ ” She knew before she finished the thought. Octavia stood and handed her a shirt as she kicked the blankets off of herself. “Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it.” As she pulled on her shoes she saw a piece of paper resting on the bedside table. She snatched it up and scanned it over:

_I had to. I love you. I’m sorry._  
_May We Meet Again,_  
_Raven_

“Oh shit, _oh shit!_ ” Tears welled in her eyes and she shoved the paper in her pocket before she ran from the room, Octavia at her heels. Everyone was gathered around the fence when she exited the Ark. She pushed through the crowd of people and stood next to her mom. Octavia came up on her other side and Wells and Bellamy took up the back. “That’s Raven.” Clarke stated breathlessly.

“I know.” Abby said, her voice a choked sob.

“What is she doing?” Kane asked softly.

“Saving all of our asses.” Octavia stated with venom. Not venom directed towards Raven; it was directed towards the situation. She and Raven had grown incredibly closer over the past few weeks. She was, undoubtedly, the first one to fully accept that Octavia wasn’t a Sky Person; that she didn’t belong with them, and she still cared for her despite it. Her heart hurt for the older woman, and when that hurt would go away, she had no idea.

Clarke turned away suddenly, grabbed Wells’ arm and pulled him out of the crowd. “Go turn off the fence.” She ordered. His eyes softened and he looked as if he was about to argue, but Clarke narrowed her eyes and he just sighed, nodded, and returned into the Ark to turn the electricity off once more.

She walked to the back of the Ark and was about to leave when someone stopped her, “What are you doing?” Octavia asked, her voice high and frantic.

“Clarke, stop,” Bellamy chimed in desperately.

The blonde turned to see her two friends a few inches away from her, ready to stop her if need be. But she knew they wouldn’t. “I’m showing mercy.” Was all she said before she slipped out of the fence and began walking up towards the Grounder Camp.

When she entered the camp she saw her girlfriend bound to a post, Grounders standing just a few feet away from her in a circle, their weapons ready. It made her stomach lurch. She ignored the Grounders giving her death glares as she walked up to Commander Lexa, who didn’t look surprised to see her in the least. “Please, stop this.” Clarke said, her tone strong and unwavering.

“My people seek justice for the lives lost.” Lexa said, her voice just as strong.

“Then take me,” The blonde pleaded. “I was the one who pulled the lever. I was the one who ignited the bomb that killed three hundred of your warriors. It was me. I did it.”

Lexa shook her head, her stoic expression never fading. “Raven confessed. You cannot save her, Clarke. Blood must have blood.”

“Spare her!” She nearly shouted but somehow managed to restrain herself. “Spare her. Show my people that your people aren’t ruthless killers.”

The brunette stared at Clarke, her face unreadable. “We are who we are.”

She wanted to scream. Wanted to fall to her knees and beg for Raven’s life. Wanted to take her place up on that post. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t save Raven. “She did it for us.” All the strength had disappeared from her voice and now she was begging. “To protect us. To protect me. Please. _She did it for me._ ”

A spark of emotion flared through Lexa’s eyes for just a moment. She gulped slightly, then said, “Then she dies for you.”

Clarke looked back at Raven. “Can I say goodbye?” She asked with a little hope. Lexa gave a small, stiff nod. Clarke rushed over to her girlfriend, her heart pounding, her stomach flipping, her head spinning. Because she knew what she had to do, and she hated herself for it.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Raven muttered as her girlfriend embraced her. She wanted to hold her back, but couldn’t because of the restraints.

“I know.” Clarke whispered, running her hands through the brunette’s hair, over her face, settling on her cheeks.

Raven’s eyes filled with more tears. “I’m so scared.” She admitted, small sobs escaping her chest.

The blonde nodded, crying uncontrollably herself, now. “I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And then Clarke was kissing her and she felt a sharp sting shoot through her stomach. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming in pain. Then the pain started to dull and she felt the life draining from her. Clarke had medical training, after all, so she’d hit an artery, Raven knew, to make it as quick as possible.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Clarke kissed her some more, pulled the knife out of her abdomen. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She assured, her voice shattered.

Raven gave a little smile as her head began to go black and her heart started to slow. “It’s okay.” Was the last thing she said before the life escaped her completely.

Clarke turned away from her girlfriend, the bloody knife in her hand and agony all over her features. She held in her sobs as she looked towards the Commander, who held an arm out to stop Anya and Indra from charging at her. “It is done.” She said, and yes, it was done. Raven was dead.

_It was done._

_Raven was dead._

She was the fixer; she always fixed things. People looked to her because they knew that somehow, some way, she’d be able to pull through, that she’d be able to make everything okay.

She was the fixer.

But she couldn’t fix this.

She made everything okay.

But not this time.

 

* * *

 

 

They allowed Clarke to sit with her for a few minutes after they took her off the pole. Raven’s head sat in her lap as she leaned over her, willing herself to control her shaking. Silent tears fell on her girlfriend’s paling face but she made no move to wipe them away.

When Raven fell to the ground in that little pod Clarke never thought that she’d fall in love with her. And when they decided the only way for them to survive was to blow up the Grounders, not once, but twice, Clarke never knew this would be the repercussion. But this, whether they had peace or not, was war. People died in war. Sacrifices had to be made in war.

But Raven…

Raven was the one person who Clarke knew would be there with her despite all the death and fighting. Raven was strong, so strong, and had endured the most since landing. She’s lost her leg for Christ’s Sake and she never gave up. She could conquer the world if she wanted to. But also she was selfless. Sometimes too selfless, especially when it came to the people she loved; she nearly died blowing up the bridge and she nearly died again when Murphy held Bellamy hostage. She did it to protect them. To protect her people. She did it so that they would be safe. And she did this, too, so that everyone could live.

And Clarke hated her for it. She hated that it had to be her. She hated that Raven always took things into her own hands and came to the solution without sharing it. She hated…she hated that Raven left her alone. She hated that Raven saw no other way. She hated her. She hated her. She hated her. But god, she loved her, and she would always love her, and she would be hollow without her.

“Clarke,” She looked up to see her friends, plus her mother and Kane, standing a few inches away from her. “They have to take her now.” Bellamy said, his face wan. Two Grounders appeared beside her. They bent down and grabbed her girlfriend from her hands, lifted her up like she was nothing, and took her away. She wanted to fight back. To go after them, kill them, take Raven and run. But she didn’t have the strength, so she just let them take the lifeless woman she loved away.

Wells pulled Clarke to her feet and she instantly yanked away from him. “Who disabled the fence for her?” She asked, giving heavy and accusing glares to everyone.

“I did.” Wells confessed without hesitation.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with betrayal. “And you just… _did it?_ You didn’t—you didn’t try to stop her? You just let her leave?” Her head had begun to spin and she thought she’d pass out. She stumbled backwards and Octavia put her hands on her shoulders to keep her upright. “Did you know?” She croaked.

Octavia shook her head. “I had no idea.”

“I tried to stop her.” Bellamy blurted. “I tried. _I tried._ But she wouldn’t listen to me. She…she wouldn’t listen.” He covered his eyes with his hand as his body began to shake. Wells moved beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

“She gave us a chance.” Kane mumbled. Clarke shifted her eyes to him, waiting for him to go on. “She…Raven gave us a chance for this treaty to work. She gave us a chance to get the kids out of Mount Weather. _She gave us a chance._ ” Which Clarke knew, of course, but that still didn’t mean she couldn’t be furious at the people who’d failed to stop her—failed to save her. Herself included.

She turned away from them, grabbed Octavia’s hand for support, and then began walking to the Commander’s quarters to set the parameters for the treaty.

**Author's Note:**

> i got inspo to write this when i was on my bike ride this afternoon and was listening to 'halo' by starset tbh i highly rec listening to all of their songs bc they all remind me of the 100 and princess mechanic


End file.
